


A Kiss Is Not Just a Kiss

by Oshun



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 13:17:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oshun/pseuds/Oshun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meddling friends try to give Harry and Draco an extra little push to recognize their attraction to one another. Written for dracoharry100’s 2012 Christmas Challenge. Prompts: Malfunctioning Mistletoe, Mulled Wine, Traditions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kiss Is Not Just a Kiss

The room reflected all the best of Yuletide traditions, Wizard and Muggle--the scent of pine, of cinnamon and cloves, gingerbread and peppermint. A massive Christmas tree lit with an impressive collection of glittering Fairies dominated one end of the large parlor. Pansy thought that, however one felt about the Weaselys, they did know how to throw a holiday party. And, best of all, Ron had agreed to the Sticking Mistletoe spell.

“Game time!” Pansy shrieked. “Here comes Draco? Where’s Potter?”

“Calm down. Got it covered. Mistletoe’s in place.” Weasley grinned at his wife, who emerged from the kitchen wiping her hands on one of those garish Christmas aprons, complete with drunken reindeer, which covered her stunning black-sequined cocktail dress. Her lush hair framed her pretty face in a spectacular frizz caused by the steam escaping from the aromatic pot of mulled wine.

Hermione stopped in the doorway to give them the required scolding. “You people act like children. If they are meant to be together they will find one another without your help.”

“Think so?” Ron’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “I doubt it. Harry’s oblivious and in denial. And Malfoy’s stubborn as a mule,” he said, before bellowing, “Harry! Can you see who just flooed in? Tell them the drinks are set up on the sideboard in the dining room.”

“On my way,” shouted Potter from the front hallway. “Malfoy! Huh, hullo.”

“Potter. What the . . . my feet are stuck to the floor!”

“Mistletoe trap,” sighed Potter, who looked up to see the cluster of green leaves and white berries dangling over their heads. “I can’t move my feet either. I can move my hands and my head.”

“Same here. It requires a kiss, I suppose.” Draco’s cheeks turned scarlet. “Could be worse. Could be the Weasel, or my ex-wife. What are you waiting for, kiss me.”

“You kiss me. It’s your fault I’m here.”

“Buggering blast-ended skrewts. Do you have to argue about everything?”

“Only with you, Malfoy. Only with you.” Potter inhaled as deeply as if he needed enough air to dive into a frozen pond and retrieve the Sword of Gryffindor. “Ready then?” he asked.

“I have been for quite some time,” grumbled Draco.

Potter smiled, leaning in closer, one hand on Draco’s shoulder for balance. “Ah, so it’s like that, is it?”

“You wish, Potter!”

Pansy stood in the parlor door, flapping her hands behind her like a maniac, terrified the rest would miss the entire scene. “Hurry up, hurry up! It’s getting good already,” she hissed in the world’s loudest stage whisper. Ron, Hermione, Blaise, and the Weasley brats all crowded against her in the entrance from the dining room into the parlor.

Ever the lion-hearted Gryffindor, Potter clamped his free hand around the back of Draco’s head and, not playing at it, dived in for a real kiss. No half-measures for the hero of the Wizarding world. Pansy suspected the boldness is what Draco found so compelling about him. The embrace was a treat to watch. Draco’s entire posture softened in the kiss, as he wound an arm around Harry’s waist.

When they finally pulled apart, cheeks pink, lips kiss-swollen, a good look for both of them, Draco said, “Well, that ought to do. I have to give it you, Potter. That was a proper kiss.”

“Don’t try to deny it. You helped.”

“Of course I did, you git. A peck won’t release the spell.”

Wobbling precariously, Potter said, with a grunt, “I still can’t move.” Draco grabbed him by the biceps to steady him.

“Neither can I. Something’s gone horribly wrong.”

“Try again?” Potter asked.

That time Draco leaned into the kiss. “Pay attention this time. Put a little heart into it!”

“You bet I will. I would not want to have to do this again.”

Pansy giggled. They were priceless together. She cooed in surprise as Draco slid a hand up under the back of Potter’s jumper, revealing a sliver of toned, tanned flesh. “Aww. That ought to release the spell.”

“Umm,” Weasley said. “Not necessarily. The spell has two elements. Breaking it relies on a combination of intensity _and_ length.”

Draco stopped devouring Potter for a second to snarl, “We can hear you, Weasley, Pansy! We are not deaf yet, you know.” Potter chuckled and pulled Draco back into the kiss, squeezing his bum appreciatively.

“Ron, how could you?” protested Hermione, looking pained.

“Hey! Don’t blame me. It was Parkinson’s idea.”

“How long?” Pansy asked, thoroughly enjoying the display.

“Maybe twenty minutes.” Ron furrowed his eyebrows in thought. “Could be less the way they are going at it. Look at Malfoy! Way. To. Go. They might not last ten minutes. Whoa! Maybe only five.”

“All right. This is not for children!” Hermione snapped. “Come along, Rose! Hugo! Coats, hats, boots, and mittens. You are going into the garden to build a snowman and not coming back in until I call you.”

"It's dark and cold back there," whinged Hugo.  
  
“We always miss all the good parts,” Rose said .


End file.
